


Time is Tight Part Two: What Lies Within

by MichiganBlackhawk



Series: Trio AU [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 03:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MichiganBlackhawk/pseuds/MichiganBlackhawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The hunt for the demon tightens as their quest takes them to Iowa. Short connective piece that takes place during the first season episode "Salvation."</p><p> </p><p>Revised version updated 5/23/2014</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Frank, I need your help.”

“Again? You’re going to have to start doing me some favors, you know. I actually have a lot of folks to cover, I can’t be your personal—”

“Would you just shut the fuck up? I don’t have time for your bellyaching bullshit!”

Two hundred fifty miles away in Chicago, the neromancer known as Frank drew back from the phone as if he thought Jayme was going to bite him through it. In the decades they’d known each other they’d exchanged a lot of snark but she’d never snarled at him with such open rage. “I beg your pardon?”

“This is serious. People are dying, and I’m trying to help stop it.”

“Jhamera, humans have authorities to handle those things. We shouldn’t be getting involved.”

“It’s too late for that, Frank. I am involved. And this is _taras halh thkosstha_. Human authorities don’t know, don’t want to know, and we can’t trust them.”

Frank sat back in his chair. “What have you been doing?” _Taras halh thkosstha_ meant ‘the world underneath,’ an archaic phrase neromancers had not used in millenia. It meant the shadow realm, filled with evil creatures, and it didn’t exist.

Right?

“I don’t have time, Frank. But this is real—you have my solemn word on my house’s honor. Now, are you going to help me or not?”

Frank hesitated only a moment. He’d never heard her speak in such deadly earnest; but then again, she’d never needed to. “All right. What can I do for you?”

Her voice was cold. “I’m in Salvation, Iowa, and I need the names, birthdates, and addresses of every child about to turn six months old, and I need it five minutes ago.”

John looked up as she hung up. They were alone, with Sam and Dean out doing some of the same research, though he could guarantee her people would be able to accomplish it faster. Since leaving Colorado she’d been withdrawn and increasingly snappish, visibly holding her temper back with his sons but making no bones about being thoroughly pissed with him.

After Delphinar it hadn’t occurred to him that not all neromancers possessed her calm. Maybe telling her more than he’d told his sons had been a mistake, but what was done was done.

“Who was that?”

“Frank,” she said. “Contact in Chicago.”

“He gonna help us?”

She gave him a look as if he were an encephalic. “Yeah, after I bitched at him like that. He’s not used to me getting worked up—I think I scared him.”

“You know, we might need your help.”

Jayme turned, raising one eyebrow as she faced him. “You already have my help.”

“I mean your people. Surely they can—”

“Oh, it’s too late for that,” she said, shaking her head as if not able to believe he’d even suggested it. “Ahma offered to help you once— _more_ than once—and you turned her down. You have me. That’s it. I’ll have to do.”

“What’s _taras halh thkosstha_?”

“The only way I could explain to Frank what I’ve gotten myself into.”

 

 

As soon as Frank called back Jayme immediately downloaded the list to her tablet, organizing the information in time for Sam to return and tell them he’d had a vision about another woman pinned to the ceiling and that he had met her already.

Beings with telepathic powers, even telekinetic ones, were not unheard of in the wider realm of the galaxy. They’d always unsettled Jayme in a deep, visceral way, the idea that her head, the one place that had always been hers and no one else’s, the one place that her father and sister couldn’t reach, was not inviolable after all.

Sam’s gift was different; she’d paid attention enough to temporal physics to know that the future was an unstable, uncertain thing, subject to change for a million different reasons, even ones that seemed completely innocuous. Being able to predict it or see things that were to come was usually deemed impossible.

It hadn’t taken long for her to realize that ‘impossible’ was just as much of an illusion as ‘normal’ or ‘innocent.’

She paced as they talked, listening with one ear and letting her mind snarl on its way. John’s words outside the room in Colorado kept rebounding in her skull over and over, as well as his last admonishment that she was to say nothing to either of them. It was a weight she didn’t want, would give anything to slide out from under. It made her wonder if Dean hadn’t been right all those months ago, that she wanted in because she thought it was fun and exiting, and now that it was venturing into territory so dark she could barely fit her head around it, she wanted out.

No. That couldn’t be it. She was committed; she’d killed for them, bled for them, even lied to her people about certain things just to make sure they didn’t get too curious. It all had to be worth it in the end. It just had to be.

 

 

“Earth? What are you talking about, Ahma?”

Delphinar looked around the empty barracks hall; unlike Earth militaries, the living quarters and common areas on Katarin’s main military/spacefleet academy looked more like an elegant college dorm or planned community, with spacious apartments and wide-open common areas in shades of red and brown, pleasing to the eye and soothing, more to encourage contemplation than to inspire violence.

Most of the graduated class to which Jhamera belonged had gone home, or headed to their assignments. It was that strange in-between time, as if the buildings were waiting for the next generation of Katarin’s finest. It was unusual for a graduated student officer to still be within its walls, much less still maintaining an apartment.

She was pleased; of her two children Delphinar had a special affinity for Jhamera. Lharessa was big and strong and aggressive, qualities highly prized in a female of the bloodline, but Jhamera had been born smaller, quieter, more likely to think before she leaped. There had been a time when she’d worried—visits home were as frequent as she could make them, and Jhamera always seemed fine and healthy, eager to spend time with her Ahma. Sometimes, it seemed, a little too eager.

The young female who sat next to her, her long red hair flowing around her shoulders, her ears still and poised, still seemed to carry more than a hint of the conflicted child she’d once been. Delphinar had never asked and Jhamera had never given any indication of any desire to talk, and it seemed more prudent to leave her be than to pry.

“You’re still in residence,” Delphinar said, giving her younger daughter a pointed look. “Most _kethaya_ don’t take this long to decide. In fact, your senior Designar tells me you haven’t applied for any positions.”

“I know. I don’t know what I want to do.”

“Then why haven’t you gone home?” For just a moment Delphinar thought she saw fear flash through her younger daughter’s eyes. “All right. So you’re undecided. That’s why I came. There’s an opening on Earth for an observer. I think you’d be perfect for it.”

“Why?”

“On that planet right now, one of the dominant cultures is undergoing a change. It involves their young after they enter puberty. We don’t have anyone there who can pass for one of them, but you can.”

“What would I have to do?”

“Go to one of their schools, associate with them, see if you can understand their world through their eyes.”

Jayme frowned, her left ear twitching as it did when she was confused. “Why me? What makes you think I’d have any idea what to do?”

“You already have a good understanding of their world through me. With some training, I think you’d be a good fit. What do you say?”

“I’d have to leave Katarin, right?”

“Naturally.”

“What happens if I’m not a good fit? If I’m not able to handle the job?”

Delphinar only smiled. “I know you, Jhamera. I think you’ll find your place there.”

She watched as her daughter considered it. There wasn’t much of a question what her answer would be, but there was still a moment when surety was not one hundred percent. “Would I have to get those awful ugly ears like you have?” she finally asked.

Delphinar laughed. “Unfortunately, yes. I can promise you that the surgery to alter your ears and fangs is painless, and it doesn’t take long to adjust. Does this mean yes?”

“Sure. Why not? I don’t have anything better to do with my time.”

She waited until her daughter stood, meeting her eye-to-eye. “I hope that will change. And soon.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Can you do it?”

Jayme sighed, closing her eyes in frustration. “Yes, I guess so, but this is opening me up to a lot of ques—”

“Just get it done.”

Her eyes opened, spearing John with a dangerous look. “I don’t take orders from you.”

“Jaymes,” Dean said. “Please.”

She pulled out her phone, pushing off the side of the Impala and heading away from the car. “All right. Gimme a few.”

She dialed one of the numbers from her meagre address book. She’d told Sam and Dean once that she only knew a few neromancers so that she’d never be able to reveal them all under interrogation, something that was provisionally true but not entirely. She knew of more than several, but there were very few who knew her well enough to do her any favors. Frank was already strained to the limit.

“ _Silensherra-sen_ ,” she said as soon as a voice appeared on the other end. “ _Thes’ti Jhamera. Sa. Nha rhen, nha. Tahya . . . sonnitey annara sa’sha. Sonn nha etediniihr. Kannha suvehr sehshiin._ ”

She looked at the gun in her hand, holding still as it vanished. Several minutes later it reappeared. She carefully laid it aside, holding out her hand as an identical gun materialized. “Thanks. I owe you one.” She hung up before the voice on the other end could ask any questions.

They were waiting for her. She handed the first to Dean, the second to John.

“You’re sure you got them straight?” John asked.

Under different circumstances she might have rolled her eyes or said ‘kiss my ass.’ Instead she just glared, turning away and stalking past Sam, Dean, and the Impala toward the railroad trestle they’d parked near. 

It was some time later when Dean approached her. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just fine. Is he gone?”

“Who?”

She started to say something, then literally bit back the words. “Your dad.”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“Yes I said good. Man’s getting on my last damn nerve.”

“Real nice.”

She turned, reaching up to grab both sides of his face. “Dean, look. I’m fine. I’m here, and we’ll get this thing, okay? I just . . . man, I really wish there was something I could just attack, you know?”

He held her hands as they slid from his face to his jacket, clutching it. “Jayme, look. You gotta focus, okay? We are so close to the end, here. We need you. I need you.”

She looked into his eyes, seeing the worry and fear beneath his game face. It reminded her of her own. “I _am_ here, Dean.”

 

 

Sam raced up the stairs, aware only distantly that the breaths and footsteps behind him had gotten louder. He knew what he’d see if he turned around, so he didn’t. Right now the only important thing was Monica and Rosie.

He burst into the room, adrenaline giving him the chance to see everything in horrible relief; Monica pinned to the ceiling, Rosie’s crib, and a dark figure leaning over it, one that turned to face him, yellow eyes shining.

Behind and above him, a grating growl rumbled, turning quickly into a snarl that rose and fell with the working of a huge pair of jaws. He could hear her teeth grinding, her breath hot on the back of his neck. It gave him just enough time to raise the Colt to eye level and fire.

The shot was true. It should have slammed into the demon and killed it, complete with sparks. Just like Luther.

Instead the demon dissolved into smoke and Sam winced as Jayme roared. 

Then it was just flames and confusion and Jayme was there as she normally was, human hands as she grabbed Rosie from the crib just as it burst into flames, running outside with flames chasing them down the hall, Sam holding Monica’s arm as she screamed and twisted and everything was just get them _out_ of the house and there was no time to think.

Not until after.

When flames were shooting out of another nursery window.


	3. Chapter 3

“How was your first day?”

“Ahma, these creatures are _strange_.” Jhamera—or Jane as she was known on Earth—kicked off her shoes as she came into the house.

“Yes, but I’m sure they’d find us just as strange if they knew us. And don’t call them creatures.”

“Why not? That’s what they are, I thought.”

Delphinar put down her book, giving Jhamera a look she’d never seen before. “No. They’re not, and I won’t have you calling them that in front of me. Yes, they are young, and primitive compared to us, but they’re intelligent beings doing they best they can. Now, what did you learn today?”

“Most of them are nice. Friendlier than I expected. But they’re not fierce. Hardly at all.”

“One thing you have to keep in mind, Jhamera. They aren’t all the same. They may not be the hunters and warriors that we are, but their variety will surprise you. And sometimes you may just find a few who share some of our qualities.”

“If you say so. I find it hard to believe based on what I’ve seen so far. Most of them are more concerned with mating with each other or school activities than anything else.”

“They’re young. Give it time. After all, you have so much more of it than they do.”

Jhamera sat down across from her mother, tossing her school materials aside. “Ahma. What is it about them that you like so much? Really. I’ve spoken with others who are posted here and they still have this professional detachment. But you don’t.”

“No. I don’t suppose I do.” Delphinar paused to consider. “It isn’t that I haven’t noticed their weaknesses, and I don’t think I could successfully lie and say that I respect all of them, or perhaps even most of them. But if you give them a chance, you will find some who are worthy of your respect, who have that inner strength that is our equal.”

Jhamera smiled. “My my. My mother is an idealist.”

“Not an an idealist. Just someone who’s lived long enough to have found it sometimes.”

Jhamera reached up and removed the barettes from her hair. “Hopefully I might find it too someday.”

 

 

Something was wrong. John wasn’t answering.

Sam was stunned, still reeling from being unable to kill the demon. How had it avoided his shot? How could he have missed? Why hadn’t Dean and Jayme let him go back in and finish it?

Jayme watched, not sure whose side she was on. She understood how Sam felt, still feeling the rage thrumming through her that the demon had escaped them so handily, and inwardly cursing herself for not leaping at it even though it was pretty clear that she would have done no better than the Colt.

But she also agreed with Dean that it wasn’t any better for Sam to sacrifice himself and it made her angry that Sam either didn’t see or didn’t care how important he was to his brother. Sam just didn’t know how lucky he was to have someone who cared that much.

Normally she stayed out of the family part of the business. She wasn’t family, was barely a friend, and even though they’d accepted her help there were inner circles she’d never reach. But even as Sam slammed Dean up against the wall, raging at him, she knew that even outside looking in, she had to do something.

“Sam!” Jayme said, reaching for Sam’s arm. He shook her off; when she touched him again, it was with the intractable grip of fur that crossed his shoulders and held him firm. “Sam, stop, stop!” It wasn’t an order, but a plea. “Please stop!”

He relaxed in her grip, marginally, but enough to allow the tension to ease. Dean’s shields had dropped, and he looked at Sam with pleading in his voice and more pain than she could comprehend in his eyes, and it was suddenly all clear.

This is what Ahma had seen in them, and why she’d wanted her to go with them. She _knew_ how dark and violent and terrifying the road would get, no matter how tough her daughter was, no matter how equal to the dark she might have been. But that also meant she had faith that Jayme was up to the task.

Dean tried John one more time. Jayme could hear Meg’s voice on the other end and all the familiar rage came back, making her fur stand up in a hard ridge on her back. She took the phone from Dean; it looked ridiculously tiny in her huge hand, but it worked enough.

Enough for her to snarl “When we find you, you’re dead” before crunching the phone to pieces.


End file.
